I looked at my pocket watch moments before I stepped from the shade of the trees onto the road. Nearly an hour had passed since Julia and Amelie had stepped away, which was much longer than I would have assumed I'd spent at my uncle's grave.

"You should have come back and told me how much time passed," I said to the two of them as I approached.

"We couldn't possibly interrupt," Julia said. She twirled her parasol over her shoulder, sending the blue tassels swinging. "Besides, we weren't watching the time."

"No, we were not. I have thoroughly enjoyed Julia's company," Amelie said as she smiled at Julia and took her free hand. The two of them linked arms, and with their dark braids of hair and white summer dresses with nearly matching blue stripes, they almost looked like sisters enjoying a walk. "You should have told me your wife was so pleasant."

"I didn't say she was unpleasant," I said defensively.

Julia rolled her eyes and shook her head at me. "Such flattery from my beloved husband," she said dryly.

Amelie grinned. "I imagine by now my mother has talked Alex's ear off and Lisette has found plenty of clues to where the goblins live."

"I suppose we should return," Julia said as she glanced back to the trail leading through the woods.

"Stay a little longer," Amelie suggested, nodding toward the trees. "I'll have them fix lunch with me."

"Are you certain?" I asked.

Amelie nodded. "Of course. Just return for your children in an hour or I keep them as farmhands."

Once Amelie started home, I turned to Julia, who closed her parasol and took my arm. I led her back toward the grave site, few words spoken between us save for me pointing out exposed roots so that she didn't lose her footing.

"It's been well maintained," I said once we entered the clearing.

"Jean-Marcus made sure it was clear for you," Julia said. "He came out early this morning to pull weeds.

I raised a brow. "Why would he do such a thing?"

"I didn't ask," Julia admitted. "Amelie mentioned that he has kept the grave maintained over the years. It sounded to me as though he's quite the horticulturist from what Amelie said. He's grown the most bountiful harvest of gourds six years in a row."

"Gourds indeed," I muttered. I crossed my arms and grunted, assuming his actions were driven by guilt after he saw me with the traveling fair in Rouen, but I didn't much care about his motives. He had kept my uncle from being swallowed up by the surrounding forest and allowed me to return to the place where I had buried him. Without Jean-Marcus' assistance, I would not have been able to locate the grave, particularly since I had not placed a marker on the plot.

"It's beautiful here, with the flowers and the way the light streams through the leaves," Julia commented after a long moment of silence. She rested her head against my shoulder and trailed the tips of her fingers down my spine. I inhaled the heady scent of damp earth and closed my eyes, listening to the breeze rustle the trees and the birds calling to one another. Somewhere overhead, a perturbed squirrel gave a stern warning. "I've forgotten how peaceful it can be simply walking through the woods."

"I could feel him here," I murmured. "It sounds like madness, but it felt real."

"He loved you dearly. I have no doubt his heart reached out to yours."

If we had lived closer to Tormage, I imagined having a picnic beneath the shade of the trees and sharing stories of my uncle with Lisette and Alex in the summer. Perhaps there would be a time when Phelan and Joshua would accompany me and pay their respects as well. Joshua had commissioned a modest marker for his father, but he had never seen where his father's remains had been buried. I assumed he would want to visit at least once, if only to see his father's final resting place.

"I couldn't remember a single detail of this place," I told Julia. "Without Amelie's guidance and her brother clearing the surrounding space, I never would have found it. I suppose I was too…" Too young. Too distraught. Too frightened. "I should have fought back when they placed me in chains."

The admission made me shudder. At the age of twelve, I should not have been shackled as I had committed no crimes. I had been a child at the time, distraught by my uncle's passing and terribly alone. If someone had guided me back to the road, perhaps I could have found my way to the Batiste farm and allowed a moment to gather my wits, but I had not been allowed a moment to properly mourn and process my loss.

"I imagine you were in shock," Julia said quietly.

There hadn't been a word to describe how I had felt that day. My life had stopped the moment the gypsies had found me and it had not begun again until Madeline took me away and hid me beneath the Opera House.

"You had lost your uncle hours earlier and spent the day burying him alone. Quite frankly I'm amazed you remember them taking you away."

"I remember being soaked to the bone," I said. "I was numb, yet still shivering, but the sensation didn't quite register."

Every movement was automatic and executed through blinding tears. I dug a grave because I didn't know what else to do, and the movement of earth had prevented me from becoming catatonic. It gave me one last sense of purpose, a final task only I could do for my uncle.

"My fingers were stiff and my palms bloodied from the blisters breaking open. The nail on my thumb had split, but I kept digging. I didn't want scavengers to pick at him. I couldn't bear to think of his body being desecrated."

"You were so young," Julia whispered. "Too young."

"The pack Amelie saved was in the mud, nearly buried by the dirt I shoveled into a mound," I said. That I remembered with greater clarity than anything else. "They allowed me to take a few personal belongings once they searched for anything of value and turned up a handful of bank notes." I paused and stared at the cross. "I buried him with his cane and his watch. I didn't think to check his pockets or boots for valuables."

"I would not have thought to check either," Julia said.

"I don't know why I didn't take the letters and his journal."

"What did you take?"

"Clothing," I answered. A pair of trousers, a nightshirt, two shirts that were nearly threadbare as it was, and wool stockings that were claimed by someone else the moment they realized they were in good repair. "The knife I had was confiscated. I had extra strings but no violin. I honestly have no idea what happened to the instrument."

"You were quite sensible."

I nodded. "If I had been in the right mindset, I would have been more sentimental."

Julia snaked her arm around me and gave a gentle squeeze before she released me and asked me to hold her parasol. With a close-lipped smile, she stepped toward the cross and the stones.

"Uncle Alak," she said, dipping into a quick curtsy. "My name is Julia Kire." She glanced over her shoulder at me and grinned. "Your nephew and I were married recently. He has shared many of your letters with me, and even though you and I have not met face-to-face, I would like to thank you for helping Erik find his way into my life."

Julia bent forward, pressing her fingers to her lips, which she placed against the top of the cross, transferring a kiss.

"I'm certain your nephew told you about our children, but did he you about the book club our daughter Lisette started with him? Lisette is beyond thrilled to have someone who loves books as much as she does. And my new son Alexandre is the most loving and extraordinary little boy you could ever meet. You would be honored that he shares your name. He hasn't quite discovered his appreciation for music, but Alex is quite the artist and he is very fond of ancient Egypt."

I heard Julia whisper something more, but her voice was too low for me to hear.

I studied her for a moment as she stood with her hands clasped. If I had made my way to Paris as my uncle had intended, I would have undoubtedly lived with Joshua and Phelan instead of Madeline finding me. The Opera House would have still been in business if I had not lived beneath its stage. Christine would have most likely gone no further than a simple chorus girl in the theater, a mediocre career at best. Alex most certainly would not have existed as his mother and I-for better or worse-would not have met for him to be conceived.

Without Alex, Bessie would have been drowned as a pup and Meg would not have returned from London with Charles to be employed as a tutor. Charles would have been miserably confined to a wheelchair far too narrow and short for his stature, his pain unbearable unless he was issued large quantities of laudanum and morphine.

And my wife Julia would have remained married to Louis Seuratti while Lisette's childhood would have been a worse nightmare than my own, especially as she grew older. I would have never heard Julia's pleas for her first husband to calm down nor seen a little girl sit still as a statue on the back step, unable to utter a sound without drawing the wrath of her father.

For all of my mistakes and missteps, I was glad to have Alex, Lisette and Julia. I would have gone through Persia and the traveling fair a dozen times if that's what it took to have them in my life.

"You should play for him again," Julia suggested as she returned to my side and took her parasol back. "Before we leave."

I cupped her face in my hands and stroked her cheek before kissing her full on the mouth, grateful that I was hers and she was mine.

"What was that for?" Julia asked as she drew back briefly, her hazel eyes heavily lidded. She grasped hold of my arms as though to steady herself.

"For everything," I murmured. "Every bit of the past that led to our lives intertwining so that we could share a future together."

Julia reached for my mask and paused. I nodded once and she smiled as she removed it. "That is quite the intoxicating kiss in front of Uncle Alak," Julia sighed against my lips as she pressed her forehead to mine. "Quite scandalous, if you ask me. What would your uncle think?"

I smiled and kissed her again. "He would most definitely approve. In fact, he would tell me to kiss you again and again."

To that Julia laughed before she slid hand slid into mine. "We should return before Lissy and Alex become wards of the Batiste farm."

Surprisingly I felt ready to leave my uncle's grave. I turned to Julia, who gently kissed me twice; once on the cheek and once on the lips before handing me the mask.

"For no other reason than I love you," Julia said before I asked.

OoO

Lisette had a collection of treasures proving the existence of goblins and fairies that included a cup, a small crutch, some goblin hair and a goblin tooth. Being that I lacked her robust imagination, she had to inform me that the thimble, twig, strands of horse hair, and corn kernel were the aforementioned items. The goblin tooth had been discovered by Bessie, who had it stuck to her nose somewhere around the chicken coop.

"I must return the crutch for the injured fairy," Lisette said solemnly before racing out to the garden where she propped it up against the fence. She skipped inside, beaming with pride once I told her how kind she was to return the crutch rather than keep it as a memento.

The goblin hair and tooth, however, Lisette decided to keep as a souvenir of her holiday to Tormage, which she intended to show her friends once we returned home.

"Goblins without teeth can't eat children," she told me.

"Very true," I replied. "You've undoubtedly saved many lives for generations to come."

The thimble Amelie put into her pocket for safekeeping during lunch, but said Lisette was welcomed to take it. My daughter insisted the injured fairy would need a saucer with sweetened cream in order to heal and that the drinking cup should be left with it.

"You are very kind, Lisette," Amelie praised.

Marie and Amelie made a light lunch with the help of Lisette and Alex, which we enjoyed outside before the skies darkened and thunder rumbled in the distance. Once raindrops began to fall, Amelie ushered everyone inside.

"Where is your brother?" Alex asked as he took a seat on a stool by Madame Batiste's feet. He had not left her side since their walk, which came as no surprise considering he had spent his life in a house filled with adults. He enjoyed kneading dough with Meg or stirring ingredients into bowls while she told him stories about her days in the ballet.

"Jean-Marcus was here quite early," Marie answered. "He helps around the farm before the shop opens."

"What type of shop?" Alex asked.

"Jean-Marcus and his oldest son opened a Solan's a few years back. It's the only one outside of Rouen in this part of the country. They are quite successful," Amelie said quite proudly. "His wife Patrice dresses all the ladies within fifty miles in the latest fashions. You should see some of the items they carry."

"That is where mother's friend Hermine Leach purchases all of her finest hats," Lisette exclaimed.

If I had been drinking tea, I most assuredly would have spit it out. Finery was not how I would have described any piece of Hermine Leach's wardrobe.

Marie narrowed her eyes. "Hermine Leach? Any relation to the entrepreneur Archibald Leach?"

"His sister," Julia said. "I've known Archie and Meanie since I was a child. Their family had a summer home near where my family lived."

"In Paris?" Amelie asked.

"Outside of Genoa. Their summers in the country became year-round residency for a few years while his father conducted business all across Europe. We've been friends since I was Lissy's age. I haven't been there in years and now only two of my sisters live there. Everyone else is spread out, I'm afraid."

"Sei lontano da casa," Marie said, Italian for 'You are far from home.'

Julia gave an appreciative smile. "You speak Italian?"

Marie shrugged. "Not enough. After we married, my husband and I spent a year in Rome, but I was far too homesick. We returned here to start a family."

"She missed me," Amelie said, flashing a toothy grin at her sister. "And really, who wouldn't?"

Julia sighed. "I don't speak Italian often with the rest of my family living so far away. I'm ashamed to admit Lissy barely knows enough to hold a conversation."

Lisette leaned against my right shoulder and whispered, "I know the bad words, Papa."

I looked at her from the corner of my eye and suppressed a smile. Julia would have been positively mortified if her daughter announced that she knew the bad words in Italian. I had a feeling that somehow the blame would fall on me considering my temper was far worse than Julia's and I had unfortunately been known to mutter certain indelicate words under my breath.

"We will keep this to ourselves," I whispered back.

Lisette nodded, but there was a devilish twinkle in her eyes. "I will tell you later," she offered.

"I do not believe that is necessary."

She had skipped to her mother's side before I finished speaking, but she looked at me and grinned quite deviously.

"What about Erik?" Marie questioned. "Surely he must know Italian and German with all of the operas he's composed. Surely he could refresh your memory and teach your children."

Everyone in the room turned to stare at me expectantly. "Of course I know Italian. I'm quite fluent in several languages, if you must know," I said in Italian.

"Oh, he puts me to shame," Julia said as she threw her hands in the air.

"I will teach you as well, my dear," I said in my wife's native tongue.

Julia narrowed her eyes and placed both hands on her hips, shaking her head. Despite feigning annoyance, she still chuckled to herself.

Lisette gasped and covered her mouth with both hands, her eyes bulging. "Papa!" she scolded. "What did you say?"

"He said you whisper very loudly and your mother has the hearing of a fox, young lady," Julia answered, raising a brow.